


Tuya

by ohstardustgirl



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Cassian is Javier Pena, DEA Agent, F/M, In The Bedroom, Jyn the informant, in the moonlight, narcos au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-17 10:52:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12364131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohstardustgirl/pseuds/ohstardustgirl
Summary: Narcos inspired AU.DEA agent Cassian Andor takes informant Jyn Erso into his protection, and into his bed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This fic is inspired by the romanticised versions of the characters and storylines presented in Narcos rather than the real people and events on whom they are based (and I have romanticised them even further). More ‘inspired by’ than ‘based on’. 
> 
> I am in no way knowledgeable enough to appropriately handle the complexity of Colombia or Escobar, which is why I'm using SW place names and haven’t delved too deeply into Krennic as the bad guy. 
> 
> Title is from the Narcos theme tune, and means 'Yours'
> 
> This fic is dedicated to that special subsection of the Rebelcaptain fandom that is also thirsty for Pedro Pascal <3

Cassian lights another cigarette and lets his head knock back against the wall above the headboard as he exhales. The smoke streams out and catches in swirls in the stream of moonlight that has broken through the gap in the curtains. Beside him Jyn lies with her eyes closed, one arm above her head, sheets pooled around her hips. He lets his eyes rove over the curves that he’s grown to know so well over the last few weeks. In the blue-grey light she looks both soft and warm and like something perfected out of pale marble all at once and he thinks of burying his face in her hair and forgetting the horrors outside.

He’s slept with plenty of informants before. Bored housewives have told him all about their husbands and their friends and their secret bank accounts. Prostitutes have told him where the crooks will be partying at the weekend. Attention, companionship and sex have been as much currency to him as actual cash for longer than he cares to remember. It’s how things have to be done in Jedha, the only way to get close to those who worked for Krennic (and nearly everyone, in some way or another, worked for him. The kids on the streets had more loyalty to Krennic’s solid cash than to some foreigner and especially a cop).

This is the first time he’s actually let an informant stay in his apartment, however, and over the course of a few weeks the domesticity - if drinking whiskey and fucking could be called that - had gone from sickening to comforting. It’s just convenience, he tells himself. She had come to him, broken into his apartment, for help with intel he couldn’t refuse, and she was safer staying here than risking an ‘accident’ in protective custody.

“Can’t sleep?” she asks, breaking him from his daze. Jyn rolls to face him, her smooth thigh presses against his under the tangle of sheets.

Cassian avoids meeting her eyes. Those green eyes are trouble, he knew that the first time he saw her, when he came home to find her in his apartment in the dark. They were more startling and mesmerising in real life than in the photos in the files back at the office. She was more beautiful and more dangerous and capable than any intel he had. He passes her the cigarette, watches her exhaled smoke hit the beam of light as if it were a barrier. Jyn Erso, a footnote in the stories of evil men: daughter of Galen Erso, supposed friend of Orson Krennic, the richest drug trafficker in the entire world.

And currently, the most valuable and wanted woman in the whole of Jedha, by both Krennic and the DEA.

“Do you want to tell me what happened yesterday?” Jyn reaches across him to stub the cigarette out in the ashtray on the nightstand and her hair tickles his chest. She smells like his shampoo and his liquor. He hadn’t told her when he came home the previous night, hadn’t had the words to describe the shit he had witnessed. He had downed a drink and practically devoured her without a word. The memory of what had happened flashes in his mind for the millionth time and his stomach rolls.

General Draven had lined up five kids - they were spies and spotters for Krennic but they were still just fucking children - and shot one of them right between the eyes as a warning to the others. _You work for Krennic, this is what happens_ , he had said.

Draven was always willing to use unconventional methods. It was why President Organa had brought him into this hunt, because he was willing to be as ruthless and bloody in destroying Krennic’s empire as the trafficker had been in building it.

“No,” he shakes his head and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “It’s nothing.”

He hears the sheets rustle, feels the bed shift as she turns onto her back again. “I doubt it, from the way you fucked me last night.”

Cassian snorts, but he can’t argue. Years of keeping himself closed off to everything but the job, and she had him figured out in two weeks. The days that ended with blood on his hands were also the nights he pulled her into his bed, both of them a little too rough and desperate to feel something - _anything_ \- good.

He turns his head to look back at her and his heart flutters. Her brown hair is fanned out across the pillow and her eyes are hooded. There are imprints of his teeth on her breasts and hipbones, red and purple against her pale skin. He runs his hand up her thigh and feels goosebumps rise under his palm. She is beautiful.

He wonders what it would be like to take his time and be tender with her, and wake up with her wrapped around him each morning, in a world where the good guys always won and the biggest threat he had to deal with is petty street dealers. He wonders what Jyn would have been like in a world where she didn’t grow up as a hostage to Orson Krennic, where her father wasn’t forced to do awful things just to keep her alive only for his lifeless body to be dumped by the side of the road a few weeks ago.

He pictures her living a life fuelled by passion and love, not rage and vengeance.

There’s still hope, for her at least. He’s not so sure about himself.

“It’s working, isn’t it? He’s on the run, now. And Tarkin and the other cartels have turned on him.” Her voice trembles as his thumb dips into the crease between her hip and her thigh.

“Yeah. Everything you’ve given us has been invaluable, Jyn. Krennic is running scared, and we never would have got this far without you.” It was shamefully true. The DEA had been running in circles while Krennic watched and laughed for too long. The son of a bitch didn’t count on one woman who had been privy to everything he did escaping from her gilded cage and showing up on the doorstep of a cop.

“And when he’s dead?”

Cassian turns from her, draws back his hand as if he had been burned. “Ambassador Mothma has already signed off on your papers. You’ll be free to go wherever you want, with a new name.”

He feels the mattress shift, and before he knows what’s happening she’s climbing into his lap and his cheeks flush hot. His pulse picks up as she nestles fully against him, hands in his hair.

“And you?” She asks as her teeth find the point where his jaw meets his neck and he shivers, all blood in his body rushes south. “What becomes of Agent Andor in Jedha when Orson Krennic is dead?”

_When Krennic is dead, there’s Tarkin. Then there’s the street dealers of Coruscant. Not to mention the warlords back home in Fest. Then it’ll be right back to Jedha because someone will try to take Krennic’s place._

It’s the only life he knows. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t a voice in the back of his head begging him to run off with her and start a new life away from all of this death and greed.

Cassian twists her hair around his hand and pulls her head back, the kind of rough he’s found that she likes. In the moonlight her eyes glisten with golden specks. _Stardust_ , that was what Bodhi had referred to her as when he passed messages from Galen through the network, messages that had got her father killed.

He wants to tell her that he would run away from it all, with her. There’s something like hope and sadness and resignation in her eyes, and she must see something similar in his because she nods and kisses him fiercely and claws at his shoulders as if she could climb inside his skin. He holds her just as tightly, pulls at her, presses her against him, never close enough.

He lets the sounds of her pleasure drown out the gunshots in the distance, and pretends they are anywhere but here.

 _In another life,_ he thinks, _we would be happy._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Cassian ended up with the most wanted woman in Jedha in his apartment, willing to spill all the secrets about drug trafficker Orson Krennic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place before the first chapter, as I’m just writing scenarios as I come up with them.
> 
> Definitely more ‘inspired by’ than ‘based on’, particularly as there is no equivalent to who/what I’ve written Jyn as.

The door to his apartment is open, just a crack. Light leaks out into the dark hall.

Cassian pulls his gun from the waistband of his jeans and steadies himself with a breath. No one in Jedha is stupid enough to take out a DEA agent in his own home, unless they are very high or very desperate. Either is possible.

Down the hall, a neighbour’s music blares and drowns out his own breathing. He pulls his own focus back to the gun in his hand, and after a quick three-count he kicks the door open, eyes scanning across the wide open space of the kitchenette and living room and big high windows that look out onto the city.

A woman stands by the lamp at the end of the couch, hands raised in front of her in peace. No weapon, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t dangerous. She’s battered and filthy - long brown hair falling loose from it’s tie, scab on her lip, dirt on her hands and dark, inconspicuous clothes.

Beautiful, with it all. A wild animal coming to feed from a human hand.

“Do you know who I am?” Her accent isn’t local, it’s a mix he can’t identify, and the green of her eyes catches in the low light of the lamp and sparkles with gold flecks.

He knows her. Her picture is in a folder at the office, her name connected to wicked men. The photo he has is black and white, a few years old, and doesn’t compare to the reality in front of him. Jyn Erso. Daughter of Galen Erso, whose body was found bullet-ridden and abandoned at the side of the road out of Jedha.

She's the most wanted woman in the country, by both the law and Krennic’s assassins, and she's standing right in his apartment. Her father’s body was found three days ago and she looks as if she has been hiding in the shadows and gutters without sleep for just as long.

Cassian nods, and without taking his eyes or his aim off her he closes and latches his door behind him while measuring his options. “You’re here because of your father?”

Jyn’s jaw is set and her hands flex and curl into fists. “I’m here because of Krennic, and what he _did_ to my father.”

“Your father was a criminal, you know.” It’s the wrong thing to say, but it’s the truth as far as he’s concerned.

She shakes her head and her anger burns so bright it’s like staring at the sun and he has to blink to stop himself from turning away. “My father has been feeding intel to your agents for years!”

“Bullshit,” Cassian sneers. He has dozens of whisperers out on the streets, and the best agent could only pray for someone as high up as Galen Erso to turn snitch for them. Galen helped manufacture the poison that Krennic spread across Jedha, across the entire world. “Your father was Krennic’s right hand, he could have brought the whole operation down years ago.”

“Not without getting me killed in the process.”

“And who are you, exactly? Another spoiled cartel princess?”

“More like a hostage,” she sighs and looks tired as if her last reserve of energy had just dissipated with the admission. “We were prisoners. Krennic killed my mother when I was eight years old just to get my father to work in his labs. We haven’t been out of his sight since. Papa was very careful who he trusted and what he said, but he passed plenty of information on.”

“He wasn’t careful enough.”

“No,” her voice cracks. “I think this is exactly what he wanted. He told me we would escape together, but... I think he knew it would end this way.” Her eyes shone with tears in the low light, and he saw her swallow and he would bet good money that she was biting hard on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying. _Not a princess at all_. “Krennic will tear the city apart to find me because I know too much.”

“And why me? Why come here when I could just arrest you?”

“One of my father’s messengers told me where to find you. He’s the only person I trust but he can’t protect me. I have a feeling I’m safer here than at your headquarters, am I right?”

Cassian lowers his gun. _Bodhi_ , he thinks. Bodhi has been taxiing Krennic’s people around Jedha for years, and always had intel to pass on however minor. Jyn was right, she was safer here where no one knew her. A lot of Jedhan cops would happily see some sort of accident befall her if she was caged in a cell at headquarters.

“What do you want?” Cassian steps towards her, adrenaline fading and shoulders burning. He hasn’t slept in two days and until an hour had barely stood up from his desk in just as long.

“I want Krennic dead.”

“We all do.” He says, leaning in close to her. She has to crane her neck up to meet his eyes. _Oh_ , he thinks, _why is it hard to breathe?_

“Keep me alive and get me papers to get me the hell away from Jedha, and I’ll tell you everything I know. You can do that, right? Get me out of Jedha with a new name?”

He considered it. Ambassador Mothma would want value for money _(Don’t tell me I just approved a visa for another Jedhan whore, Andor)_ but if Erso gave good intel getting her papers and transport out of here would be easy. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t, any more than I know if I can trust you.” She shrugs, a slight movement that seems to take all of her strength. “Trust goes both ways.”

Those green eyes measure him warily, and her hands finally loosen from their clenched fists. Jyn trembles, and he thinks she might drop at any moment. She looks so wretched and tired, that some instinct inside of him, something he thought long dead or numb, wants to wrap her in his arms and take care of her.

The most fucked up thing is, is that he knows he already trusts her and doesn’t know why.

“You tell me what you know, and I’ll keep you alive long enough to get you away from here.”

Jyn searches his eyes and he wonders what she sees there. _Nothing worth trusting_ , he wants to say, _nothing worth anything_. Her chin dips down as she looks away, the slightest of nods. He exhales heavily.

“Shower’s that way,” he gestures. “You can take the bed. There’s nothing but whiskey or water, help yourself.”

 

That night, he barely sleeps and it has nothing to do with the uncomfortable leather couch or the stranger in his bed.

When Jyn cries out in her sleep, he wonders if she’ll hear him when his own nightmares come.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from @grexigone: “You want choices? Here's one: fuck me or shoot me. How about that?" with some smut ensues for Narcos AU? *wink wink*
> 
> Set between chapters 1 & 2 cos I’m awkward like that.

As he enters his apartment, Cassian feels the weight of the last three days as if he were carrying a body across his shoulders. More than one, more bodies than I can bear. 

The tightness in his throat eases slightly when he sees that Jyn is still there. She’s on his couch, drinking his whiskey, and wearing one of his shirts. Her bare legs are folded underneath her, and the sight is enough to replace his discomfort with an entirely different kind of tension.

“You’re back,” she toys with her necklace, and it draws his eyes to where his shirt lies open at her collarbone. “I was worried.”

He hears the words, rolls them around in his head and dissects them for hidden meanings. They’ve known each other a week, and what little time they’ve spent together has mostly involved talking about Krennic, and her father. She had had to delve deep into her memories while he separated useful fact from emotion. When she didn’t want to talk about something, she had the most beautiful way of turning the interrogation around on him. She should have been an agent instead of an informant. As she had finally opened up and her eyes had shone with tears, Cassian had found himself longing to comfort her.

That might have been why he had slept at the station the last few nights, though he told himself it was because he was needed there. He wasn’t tempted, that’s what he told himself as he watched her rise, revealing her pale legs completely, and she poured him a drink from the bottle on the table.

Cassian swallows hard and crosses the room. 

“Aren’t you going to tell me what happened?” She asks as she passes him a glass. For a moment, he lets her stand in close as she looks up at him. _Dangerous_ , he thinks. “Or don’t you trust me?”

“I trust what you’ve told me,” he decides is a safe answer as he steps past her and sits on the couch. The leather creaks and it’s infinitely more comfortable than the foldout he had been napping on in the station. “You were right, about the labs.” Everything she had told him had checked out, and the last three days had been a blur of raids and arrests and bodies. 

“Does that mean I’m getting out of here? You’ve got my papers?” She whirls around to look at him, her eyes wide with hope that breaks his heart.

“Mothma wants more. I’m sorry, but you’re too valuable to let go too soon.”

He watches her jaw tighten as she pours herself a drink. She’s quiet, too quiet for too long, rage burning under her skin. She takes a swallow, her neck long and graceful as she tilts her head back.

“I’m sorry. It’s too dangerous to let you go just now.” Cassian rubs at the bridge of his nose. “There are too many people on the inside on Krennic’s payroll. You’re safer here for now.”

“How long?” Her voice is steel, cold and hard and unforgiving.

“I don’t know, Jyn. Until Krennic is dead and Jedha’s cartel is powerless.” He sighs. “Keep telling me what you know, and you’ll get out of here a lot quicker.”

She scrunches her eyes shut where she stands, and he counts the three long, deep breaths she takes. She moves to sit beside him and downs her whiskey, clinking the glass on the coffee table. 

“I might go crazy staying here, you know.”

“Better crazy than dead,” Cassian isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol or the loneliness that makes him reach out and place his hand on her back. She is warm beneath his palm. “As soon as I can, I’ll get you out of Jedha. I promise. You don’t have a lot of choices, and neither do I.”

She snorts at that, and he can’t blame her for her pessimism given her life so far. But then she sighs and softens, and her back arches as his hand slides up her spine over the fabric of his shirt. As his hand kneads the nape of her neck, she grips his thigh before turning to him, eyes soft. “You want choices? Here's one: fuck me or shoot me. How about that?"

“Jyn...”

She swings around onto his lap, takes his glass and leans back to place it onto the coffee table. The movement stretches her deliciously and makes his shirt ride up to her hips. 

“C’mon, Cassian.” Jyn mutters as she turns back to him and presses her forehead into his. “I need this. I just need to feel something, anything, else. Something good.” Her hips rock down hard onto his and her hands thread into his hair as she whispers in his ear. “Please?”

 _Dangerous_ , he thinks again, as his hands slide up her firm thighs, under his shirt, to her hips. He kneads there for a moment - thumbs pressing into the crease where hip meets thigh, fingers digging close to the muscles of her ass - and listens to her breathing get faster from that touch alone.

He can’t tell her no, can’t tell her to stop, and instead when she leans in to kiss him he tilts his head up to meet her.

He’s lonely and a little broken. He needs this too.

Cassian aims for gentle, because someone as broken as Jyn must need it. But she growls and bites at his bottom lip, grabs his hands and plants them on her breasts and squeezes, and he gets the message. He rips open the shirt and hears the buttons land on the couch and carpet, and Jyn sighs and tips her head back as he gets his hands on her warm flesh. He bites at the exposed column of her neck, pleased when her breath stutters and her hips press down a little harder onto his. Her pleasure is enough of a distraction for him, enough to take his mind off the bloodshed of the last few days. The pulse in her neck throbs under his lips, and she gasps as he bites down on it. Her fingers tangle in his hair and pull, the pain a pleasant tingle as her mouth meets his again. 

Jyn pulls at the shirt he’s wearing until it’s thrown to the corner of the room, and her hands are deft at the buttons of his jeans. He arches up, lifting her with him as he slides them down to his knees. She’s breathing heavy and sighing and making the most beautiful noises, every sound travelling down his spine to his groin and he’s hard for her already. He runs his hands all over her, over every inch of skin he can reach, and she’s trembling and shivering against him. His hand slips between her legs and teases at her until she’s whining and digging her nails into his shoulders. If she wants rough, that’s what she will get. Cassian pushes the shirt from her shoulders and in one swift move grabs her ass and swings her around so her back is on the couch. He pulls her underwear down her legs, kissing at her inner thighs as he goes. He glances up and sees her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes lidded and his heart _pounds_. 

He’s in too deep. As long as he lives, the image of her pale and writhing beneath him will never leave him, and nothing will ever measure up to it.

Cassian blinks the feeling away, tells himself it’s purely physical. He bites and licks at her centre until she’s crying out for him and pulling his hair so hard he sees stars. He kneels on the couch and pulls her up so she has to wrap her arms around his neck, pulls her hips in line with his and sinks into her, hands on her lower back to hold her in place, and loses himself in the wet feel and heat of her. 

He drives in hard, and she takes everything he gives her, clinging to him and meeting every thrust. She moans like a woman being exorcised, like she’s found relief at last from a longstanding ache. He can’t give her a happy life, all he can give her is temporary relief and Cassian pours himself into it.

When the hunt is over, she’ll be gone, living in a far off country under a name even he won’t have access to, and he’ll never see her again. After just a week of knowing her he’s distraught at the thought of it, so he clings to her a little tighter, pounds into her a little harder, until she cries out and spasms around him. He’s there with her, whited out in bliss, a few moments later.

Together, they breathe, bodies slicked in sweat. He pulls the ugly crocheted blanket from the back of the couch around their hips and lays her down, presses his head to her breastbone.

The rapid fire beat of her heart drowns out all of his bad memories. He might actually sleep without nightmares tonight.

Jyn is still for a long time, moving beneath him only with the rhythm of her panting breath, until her hands slip up his back and cradle his head to her breast, almost tender.

Cassian raises himself up and presses his lips to her forehead as he slips from her body. She stares up at him with those dangerous eyes, steel and fear all at once, and reaches up to stroke his cheek.

“Thank you,” she says. “I just... I needed to feel something.”

He doesn’t have the words - there are no promises he can make, no lies to make her feel better, so all he can do is wrap the blanket around her and pull her towards his bed. They’re awkward together, until she softens in his arms and buries hear face in the crook of his neck. He strokes his hand up and down her spine until her breathing evens out.

If she’s staying here - if she’s trapped here because the whole of Jedha wants her dead - he wants her to be comfortable, to feel safe. 

He doesn’t want to be another man who uses her, not when he would do anything to give her something beautiful.


End file.
